


'pride'

by nymeriahale



Series: prompt fills [34]
Category: Rugby RPF, Rugby Union RPF
Genre: M/M, Pride, Pride Parades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28482387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymeriahale/pseuds/nymeriahale
Summary: George takes a deep breath as the taxi pulls up at Portland Place, the starting point for London Pride.“Ready?” Owen asks.George musters up a smile. “As I’ll ever be.”
Relationships: Owen Farrell/George Ford
Series: prompt fills [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/396019
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harlequin87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlequin87/gifts).



> Written for the prompt: 'pride'.
> 
> This is a work of fiction and as such nothing is to be considered implied or insinuated about real life rugby players.

George takes a deep breath as the taxi pulls up at Portland Place. 

He looks across to Owen.

“Ready?” Owen asks.

George musters up a smile. “As I’ll ever be,” he says, turning to open the taxi door.

“Hey,” Owen catches George’s hand, waits for his attention before he brings it to his lips. “Today’s whatever we want, yeah?” Owen says.

The taxi driver is doing a very good job of appearing absorbed in his phone when George glances his way.

George squeezes Owen’s hand before releasing it. “Yeah,” he nods, and steps out of the car.

George is immediately confronted with a wall of sound, rocking back on his heels as the ruckus that had been filtered by glass hits him full force. He takes a moment to look around as Owen pays the cabbie, trying to spot someone he knows from the Kings Cross Steelers amid the relevry. 

George has never made it to Pride before - neither has Owen. They’d both come out before last years London Pride but with the South Africa tour only finishing two weeks before, and the way the tour had gone, they’d been focused on each other and recovery. It’s their first time, and George is as nervous as he had been before his and Owen’s first kiss. The butterflies in his stomach whirl into a tornado as Owen steps up to his side, pressing close, closer than they normally would.

“Alright? You spotted Matt yet?” 

“Not yet,” George pulls out his phone. “I’ll let him know we’re here.” He brings up a text.

Owen sighs, “Just ring him!”

“I don’t _like_ ringing people.”

“Good thing you don’t need to!” Matt calls.

George turns to find him and a collection of Kings Cross Steelers, some he knows and many more he doesn’t.

“Bickering like an old married couple already,” Matt laughs, coming in for a hug. “You’re meant to save the fight for the end of the parade,” he advises loudly. “That way it’s less time to the make up sex.”

George snorts a laugh despite himself, and despite the interest and surprise on so many surrounding faces. “I’m sure he’ll annoy me later in the day too.”

Owen elbows George on his way to hug Matt. “Love you too,” he tells George.

That relaxes George, though it seems to have the opposite effect on the Steelers squad.

Owen loves him.

Owen loves him, they’re already out as queer and it’s been - fine, honestly, better than George could ever have expected. Today is about celebrating who they are and taking a moment to relax, to put aside the press and the speculation and just _be_. With Owen by his side, George can do that.

It’s a blur of activity from then one, the time until the march begins passing in a whirl of introductions and formalities. George knows Craig Maxwell-Keys had been planning on coming, but is surprised when he and Owen are gestured into a photo with him and Nigel Owens.

“What are you doing here?” George asks Nigel once the photo is over, pulling him into a hug that surprises them both. 

There’s something in the atmosphere of the place, a sense of welcome and joy that George hasn’t felt so purely since the very early days of his rugby career. 

“You coming over to the dark side with the RFU?” Owen follows up.

Nigel scowls at the two of them. “Certainly not! But I knew the two of you wouldn’t bother to make your way out to Cardiff -”

“- not safe for us out there!” Owen interrupts.

“- so this was the only chance I had to support you,” Nigel ignores Owen with the ease of long practice.

“You didn’t have to do that,” George says as Owen ducks his head in a way George knows means he’s experiencing more emotions than he’s comfortable with.

“No,” Nigel inclines his head. “But I wanted to.”

“Thanks Nige,” Owen says seriously. “That means a lot.”

Nigel huffs, shrugs a shoulder. “Just don’t go expecting anything like it on the pitch mind!”

George laughs, “Of course not.”

“He just knew this was the best way to get that media attention,” Craig jerks his head at Nigel. “You’ve overshadowed him lads, you know that? Ruining his plans for a post-retirement career.”

“Shut it you!” Nigel tells Craig as George and Owen laugh.

They’re called into place for the start of the march, the four of them sticking close. It’s not the point of the exercise, perhaps, and George is sure they’ll all make time to connect with the Steelers players later in the march, but for now he’s glad of the familiar faces.

Owen seems to be too, bumping into George time and again.

“Hey,” George calls Owen’s attention once they’re in place, ignoring Craig also turning his way. “You good?” George checks in.

“Yeah,” Owen nods. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m -” he huffs a laugh. “I’m not sure if I’m so excited I can’t tell I’m nervous or so nervous I can’t tell I’m excited.”

“I get that,” George agrees. “But -” he takes Owen’s hand, because he wants to, because he doesn’t have to hold back. “I am excited. I’m excited to be here, I’m excited to be here with you.”

Owen smiles at him, fond and warm, an expression George rarely sees outside of either of their houses. 

“Oh.”

When George glances at Craig the noise has clearly slipped out - he looks mortified.

George looks back to Owen.

Owen steps closer, movement slow and deliberate. He leans down.

George pushes up, connects their lips in a brief, reassuring kiss. He rests a hand on Owen’s waist, rubs a thumb there.

Owen exhales, rests his forehead on George’s for a heartbeat. “Me too.”

It takes George a moment to connect the words back - Owen is excited to be there, too. Owen is excited to spend the day at Pride, to spend a day not worrying about how they act or who might see them, and to have that put an end to the salivating of the press.

They had come in aiming to be themselves, however they were most comfortable. They had come in _hoping_ that by the end of the march that might lead to someone seeing them holding hands, or otherwise crossing the platonic barrier they’ve been so careful to keep the other side of. They _are_ hoping that will mean the press settle down, stop writing articles every time they’re spotted together, leave off the speculation before the World Cup.

They’d hoped to make clear what they are to each other, clear enough to no longer draw interest, but George isn’t sure either of them had actually expected to manage it. They haven’t yet, but for Owen to initiate a kiss, for George to accept it? George could never have hoped to feel secure enough for that much. They’ve been together half their lives and George can count on both hands the number of times they’ve kissed in the company of others. They’d set expectations low, despite hopes - yet here they are. Surrounded by their both communities, rugby and queer, comfortable enough to be all that they are, with and to each other, regardless of the rest of the world. 

Now it’s only a matter of if someone will capture it.

George draws away from Owen, turns back to Craig. Craig is pointedly looking the other way, now.

“How’re you doing, Craig?” George asks.

Craig startles. “Uh. Good?”

“Oi!” Nigel steps in. “You two have got your playing lot to mentor, you leave the referees to me.”

Nigel’s involvement lifts George’s eyes up and out, leads them to the surrounding Steelers - at least half of whom seem to be watching them. No need to worry if the news will get out, then.

Owen squeezes George’s hand, seeing the same, and - doesn’t drop it. George is so used to that, to a moment of comfort followed by distancing, that for a moment he’s genuinely confused. Then he squeezes back, and smiles.

“Maybe you should lead the RFU lot to us, and we leave the Welsh to you?” George bargains.

Nigel scowls. “Alfie takes the Welsh players and you know it. But speaking of the English - we’re sure there’s going to be no hijacking of the march this year?” Nigel moves from their huddle to Matt, drawing eyes with him. “I don’t want to be led along by a bunch of transphobes.”

“No, we’re sure,” Matt is the one to respond. “I think a lot of us had something to say about that last year.”

“I should hope so too!” Nigel decrees, George and Owen murmuring their agreement along with the rest of the surrounding crowd.

Now Owen does drop George’s hand, but only to wrap an arm around his waist.

George returns the embrace, laughing at nothing.

With Nigel breaking the moment they’re immersed in the flood of the crowd once again, one couple in thousands. With Owen at his side and the sun on his face, surrounded by noise and light on all sides, George allows the significance of the moment to hit him. This is it. As the march begins to move ahead of them and the first brave Steeler comes to initiate casual conversation, they’ve finally done it. That last glass wall between them and the world has dropped, there’s no more filter. For good or bad they face the world as they are, with all of what they are. 

George raises his chin, holds Owen close to his side, and steps into it with pride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bonus scene/conversation I could neither fit in the main fic nor let go of!

Craig pops up in front of the two of them as the parade comes to yet another halt. “Where’s Nigel?” he demands.

“Uh -” Owen looks around. “Having a chat over there,” he points to the side of the road where neither Craig nor George can see.

“You okay?” George asks.

“Yes, yes, fine,” Craig nods furiously. “I just wanted - While he’s not here, I wanted -”

“Are you sure you’re alright mate?” Owen frowns.

“I wanted to thank you,” Craig hurries out.

George blinks at him.

“Mate, you don’t -” Owen starts.

“No, no, I do,” Craig insists. “I was out to my family before you guys came out, but seeing how the RFU reacted to you was the reason I could come out at work. I don’t think I’d be out by now without you guys stepping up, I really don’t. Knowing about Nigel helped, but it was you guys who gave me that push.”

“Craig -”

“No, let me finish,” Craig is on a roll now. “What you did, taking that step, has been so massive for so many players - and you know that. But it’s been massive for the whole rugby community, with how successful you guys are, the influence you clearly have on your team. Nigel being out means a lot, of course it does - but we’d almost got used to it. And it’s not the same, being a ref, not like being in a team - you guys know that, of course. But I just wanted to tell you, and thank you. And what you’re doing today -”

Craig takes a breath and George watches with dawning horror as the crowd shifts to reveal Nigel Owens, not two feet away and listening to every word.

“- that’s going to be massive, too. I know Alfie’s got his husband, but obviously Nigel doesn’t talk about it, and you’re so much higher profile than the two of them now. To share your relationship, in just the way straight people do, it’s just another great step. So - thank you, on the behalf of all of us in the queer rugby community - the queer community, even!”

“You know, I heard all of that,” Nigel says mildly.

Craig winces. “Oh, shit.”

“I tried to tell you!” Owen insists. “I think he heard you say his name.”

Nigel sighs. “I’ve been out there for years, doing the hard work out in the sticks when there were barely two gays in the whole rugby community. But you guys come along, slap two pretty faces on it, and suddenly it’s a whole movement.”

George knows Nigel is teasing, but - “You know we wouldn’t be here without you,” he tells Nigel seriously. “Alfie wouldn’t be, we wouldn’t be.”

“Talking about your coming out with George was the first time I let myself think I might be anything other than straight,” Owen adds. “I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t.”

Nigel waves a hand, dismissing them, but it does nothing to hide his smile. “Ah, you’d be fine,” he tells them. “I did it for me, anyway.”

George, Owen, and Craig nod in unison.

“I’m more upset that all the talks me and Craig have had in the past year haven’t meant as much as the two of you sucking face all day,” Nigel sighs, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment.

“I did _not_ say that!”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this Bank Holiday Friday bonus fic - and Happy New Year, everyone!! Rugby fandom has been one of the brightest points of my 2020, thank you all for your part in that <3 And congrats to you all on making it! Here's to a new year that is at worst half as bad, with twice the pockets of joy ^.^
> 
> As always I can be found on [twitter](http://twitter.com/nymeriahale) and both my [main](http://nymeriahale.tumblr.com) and [sport](http://fordfarrell.tumblr.com) tumblrs, and would love to hear from you either there or in the comments.


End file.
